


Pancakes or Waffles?

by TurtlemanTremors084 (Killjoys4life)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Antoine Triplett Lives, Background/Implied Legacy Quakerider, Bad Cooking, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Other, Pancakes, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, excessive handholding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:27:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22925638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killjoys4life/pseuds/TurtlemanTremors084
Summary: When Daisy's away on a mission, Robbie and Trip have to figure out what they mean to each other. They're both a bit rough around the edges, but horrible cooking and stunted communication can be overcome, right? Who would have thought that Daisy was the mature one in their relationship?Set in my LegacyQuakerider/Trip!Lives AU that will get an actual series name (eventually).
Relationships: Robbie Reyes/Antoine Triplett
Comments: 6
Kudos: 6





	Pancakes or Waffles?

**Author's Note:**

> Yet again, I owe a big thank you to soulofevil for helping to make this readable!
> 
> We can pretend that this was in celebration of Pancake Day (which was two days ago), but I didn't actually know that was a thing until the EvS Discord mentioned it...

Trip was abruptly shaken from his early morning haze by the sounds of someone working in the kitchen. 

He paused with a toothbrush still in his mouth to take a few cursory sniffs. The minty scent of toothpaste was overwhelming, but even it didn't mask the smell of burning food. Gladly, there was no trace of that pungent odor. 

Even if her mission ended early and she was back in the apartment, Daisy was now eliminated as the mystery cook. Trip continued brushing, while listening out for the fire alarm, and spat when he concluded that there was no imminent threat. Half expecting a masked intruder to be parked in their kitchen at 7am on a Saturday, he was shocked by the sight that greeted him. 

Robbie stood over a large bowl with his hair still mussed from sleep and wearing the pajama pants Trip swore Robbie had thrown away. Instead of his usual scowl at the flame patterned clothing, his brows were furrowed in concentration and his tongue parted his lips.

Their relationship was still achingly new, but Trip knew their dynamics. He cooked, Robbie could be forced to bake, and Daisy whispered lewd comments from her seat on the counter, far, far away from any kitchen equipment.

Robbie reached to grab something from a lower drawer, and Trip suddenly understood Daisy's good-natured wolf whistles when either of them bent over. He reached up for something on a higher shelf, and Trip decided to announce his presence.

He cleared his throat before shuffling closer, socked feet sliding on the kitchen tiles.

"I didn't know that _you_ cooked." Trip didn't wait for a response before hopping up onto Daisy's usual spot on the counter.

"Of course, I cook," Robbie snapped then deflated. "Sorry, I-"

"It's okay." It was fine. He just pressed the wrong buttons. It stung a bit, but Trip now knows what line not to cross.

"No-" he huffed, "no, it isn't." Robbie placed the bowl on the counter with a bit more force than necessary and turned to face Trip.

"This is our first time together without Daisy, and I wanted to make it special. Clearly I’m not too good at that."

"Oh." _Oh_. They really haven't spent long periods of time together, just the two of them. Sure, there were movie nights when Daisy fell asleep or little missions, but he was usually at SHIELD with her, or Robbie was off on his 'night shift'. 

"No!" Afraid that Robbie would take his outburst as something negative, he continued, "We- uh, we could make breakfast together." It came out like a question, and Trip wondered if terrigenesis stripped him of his composure along with his ability to remember things like a normal person.

Robbie paused for a few seconds as a grin worked its way onto his lips. "That sounds… great."

They quickly settled into a routine. Robbie finished the batter, Trip hunted down the frying pan, and they made out while the pancakes cooked. Things got a bit too heated, both figuratively and literally, and the flapjack started to burn behind their backs. 

The second time they actually paid attention to the pan, but the pancakes took on a puzzling mushy quality halfway through the cooking time and had to be scrapped.

Third time's the charm, they said. Trip poured while Robbie glared at the pancake like it was a bomb. It didn't explode, but Robbie had every right to be cautious, and the disaster of Pancake Number Three was never mentioned again.

* * *

"You _have_ cooked before, right?"

The batter was long gone, frying pan destroyed, and they were sitting at the table, clothes too filthy to risk contaminating the couch.

Robbie glowered. "My mom practically hoarded cookbooks, but I left them with Gabe when I came out here. Besides, neither of us had the time to make 'em."

"I knew you were a _coffee and go_ type of guy! Daisy had her doubts, but I've never failed in my food matching quest."

The little joke succeeded in warming the mood a bit, and Robbie quipped, "Instant oatmeal and coffee kind of guy, actually. Cheap _and_ delicious."

"That's debatable." Trip playfully scrunched his nose in disgust.

His expression brightened when Robbie's laugh bubbled up from his chest and he ducked his head to resume picking at the dried batter on his arms. 

Inspired by the comfortable silence that descended on them, Trip offered a proposal, "Um, since breakfast was a bust, do you want to head out to get something?"

Robbie opened his mouth, paused in consideration, and replied, "I'd like that."

There was a joint effort to restore the kitchen to its former glory. It was _mostly_ successful. The thoroughly battered kitchen equipment was soaking, and the floured floors were swept, but there was a permanent addition in the form of a palm-shaped burn mark on the marble counter.

If Daisy asks how it appeared, Robbie will plead the fifth.

Now that the kitchen no longer looked like a war zone, he shuffled off to the bathroom to shower and change into something with fewer cartoon flames. Robbie popped out of the bedroom, ready to start the day a full two hours after he expected.

He zipped up his gray hoodie before following Trip out the door. After an eight block walk, that Trip called an adventure, yet he thought was wandering aimlessly, the two men finally arrived at their destination.

It was a little mom-and-pops diner that seemed immune to the atmosphere of the sleek buildings surrounding the shop. Trip seemed at ease with the owners, striking up a conversation with familiar simplicity. 

Nothing caused the hairs on the back of Robbie's neck to stand at alert, and the Rider's growl was soft and nonthreatening. He relaxed fully when Trip slipped into the booth with him, and they waited for their food to be served.

Coffee and scrambled eggs for him, and hot chocolate and fried eggs for Trip. They both chuckled and added a plate of flapjacks to share. The morning piqued their interest, and hatred, of the delicious breakfast food.

They finished their meal slowly, enjoying the food and the company. Robbie thought this was _sweet_ , domestic in a way that he hadn't felt since Gabe, and peaceful in a way that he hadn’t felt in _years_.

* * *

Robbie let himself be pulled through the city yet again. They were sauntering home, but not in the same way they came. Trip was invigorated by turning leaves, and wanted to take the _scenic route_.

He wasn't a big fan of the slight chill and deeply regretted leaving his jacket at the apartment, but Trip's brilliant smile could convince Robbie to do much worse than stroll through the park.

Robbie quickly became lost in his thoughts, but he didn't drift too far away from the sight in front of him. Trip, framed by yellow-orange leaves and the occasional fiery red, was a big part of his musings.

Robbie had been with a man when he was younger, but he never felt like this. They had been boys, neither having any experience with relationships or life in general, and that relationship fizzled out just as quickly as it surged to the surface. Whenever he looked at Trip, warmth spread through him, just as overwhelming as the Rider taking over but never painful.

The gorgeous man with warm brown skin, bright eyes, and a brighter smile had no idea how far Robbie had fallen. _He_ didn't fully know until Trip beamed back at him from his position a few feet ahead, and the telltale fervor swirled in his chest, overflowing until it spread through his whole body. 

Robbie didn't feel _exactly_ the same way about Trip and Daisy, but that feeling, that all-encompassing affection, was a steady constant. He was shaken from his realization by Trip asking him a question. Robbie didn't even know that Trip had taken his attention away from the path until his worried brown eyes were focused on him.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah- um, yes," he stuttered before hurrying his pace.

Trip's brows were furrowed, but he seemed to understand that Robbie either wasn't going to tell him or it wasn't important enough to find out. 

They had ambled together in peaceful silence until Trip piped up, repeating his previous question, "Pancakes or waffles?"

"I know terrigenesis gives you a ridiculous metabolism, but even you can't want to eat _again_."

To his surprise, Trip started laughing, not a few chuckles here and there, but a full, belly laugh. Robbie didn't know whether to glower or join in, so he remained still until Trip regained his wits.

He cleared his throat and brushed away imaginary tears before extending a hand. Trip slipped his palm into Robbie’s and brought their connected hands up to eye level. 

“Pancakes,” he murmured. 

He loosened his grip and rotated his palm until their fingers were parallel and then interlaced the digits. Robbie stood transfixed by the sight and the feeling of Trip’s softer hand sliding over his calloused palm. “Waffles.”

Trip started to pull away at Robbie’s lack of response, but he held his grip. "I think we've had enough of pancakes."

* * *

They were a few feet away from the entrance of the park which was only two blocks away from their nice warm apartment, but Robbie didn't want to break their connected hands to gesture that fact. After a bit of whining from his part, and pleading from Trip, they sat down on a bench. 

Although the fall breeze nipped at his neck, the wood wasn't quite as cold as he expected. Robbie would deny it if asked, but it did feel good to be off his feet with a full stomach and a hand tangled together with his own.

Robbie glanced down at their intertwined hands then back to the man beside him. Trip's gaze was occupied, focused on his lips, but Robbie knew he'd never try to kiss him without permission, especially in public.

The corners of his lips twitched upwards, and he licked them before leaning forward to press his lips to Trip's. They were slightly chapped by the dry air, and Trip tasted like marmalade and the awful diner coffee that he stole a few sips of. Robbie could stay here forever, just soaking up those little details. The kiss wasn't fueled by blinding passion and need, but he felt more exposed, more intimate, in this moment than any other. 

Maybe that’s what changed on the bench, or in the diner, or in the kitchen, or in the brief moment when he realized just how deep his feelings ran. Looking back, Robbie couldn’t pinpoint _exactly_ when, but that chilly Saturday morning was the beginning of something comfortable between them. Well, _that_ , and their obsession with pancakes.


End file.
